


Snap, Crackle, Pop

by just_another_outcast



Series: the scenes we deserve (episode tags) [8]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e08 Family Friend, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm Bright Whump, Papa Gil, Parental Gil Arroyo, broken ribs, coda to 1x08, just a little bit of humor, tag to 1x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_outcast/pseuds/just_another_outcast
Summary: Lazar walked away, leaving Malcolm alone in the tunnel in agonizing pain.  As always, Gil comes to his rescue.(tag to 1x08, Family Friend)
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright
Series: the scenes we deserve (episode tags) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782832
Comments: 13
Kudos: 104





	Snap, Crackle, Pop

**Author's Note:**

> I know this exact tag has been done a dozen times, but y'all know I had to do it too. I feel like I put my own spin on it too, and I'm really proud of it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!!!

In the back of Malcolm's mind, he thought it was so cliche that Lazar only ever walked. He walked down the street and into the tunnel, and now that Malcolm was on the ground, clearly unable to get up and give chase, Lazar was walking back out. It was just like in horror movies. The killer never ran. He would walk, suddenly appearing in the worst places and quietly stalking his victims. They never ran. Lazar would fit right in.

But all of that was barely a thought in his mind. All Malcolm could truly focus on was the unbelievable amount of pain that he was in. Some of his ribs had to be broken. That's the only reason they should hurt that much. Every breath was agony, and even trying to move made his vision go white. Malcolm cried out as he tried to move again anyway, almost passing out for his trouble. His cries echoed throughout the tunnel. He wasn't getting out of there alone.

Slowly, his hand shaking, Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping on Gil's name the moment he could. As always, the man picked up on the first ring. He never kept Malcolm waiting, an old habit from his teenage years that he was grateful Gil still stuck too.

"Hey, kid, you doin' okay?" Gil asked. "Do you need me to come back out there?"

"Gil," Malcolm managed out between shallow breaths. As much as he needed to, he couldn't breathe deeply. It hurt too much. But that also meant that Malcolm felt more and more like he was going to pass out. He knew that was all mental, he really wouldn't pass out since he was getting air, but his mind believed he wasn't getting enough and was starting to panic. He had to stop panicking. Even just hearing Gil's voice helped. Gil always helped.

"You okay?" Gil asked, and Malcolm could practically see him furrowing his eyebrows and turning towards a corner to give himself a semblance of more privacy. "What's going on?"

"Gil, I- I need you, please," Malcolm managed, but talking made it worse, made it all worse. He couldn't breathe as well when he talked and his ribs were worse too. Malcolm couldn't stop another cry from escaping, born of both pain and panic.

"Malcolm what's wrong? Where are you?" There was panic in his voice too.

"Service tunnel, down the street across from the precinct." He ran out of breath, he needed to breath deeply, no matter how much it hurt. Malcolm took that deep breath, but almost screamed in the process. It hurt so bad, it felt like Lazar was crushing him all over again. He could hear himself crying, but he couldn't stop even though it only made him hurt more. It just hurt so bad.

"Do I need to call a bus? Please, kid, talk to me. What happened? I'm on my way."

"No bus," Malcolm managed. "Just need you, Gil, please. I need you." He focused on taking little breaths. They weren't as big as he wanted them to be, but they were breaths and he was breathing and he was alive and it was going to be okay because Gil was coming. Gil was on his way. Gil was going to save him, just like he always did. It was going to be okay.

"I'm on my way kid, I'm comin' for ya, just keep breathing," Gil said. Malcolm could hear the fear in his voice. He wanted to assure Gil that he was going to be okay, but he didn't have the breath or the energy.

"Gil," he said, just repeating the man's name to let him know that he was still there.

"Yeah, kid, I'm almost there. You stay with me, okay?" If Malcolm wasn't mistaken, Gil sounded downright terrified. His voice wobbled just a bit, like he was struggling to keep it together. Like he was scared that he was about to lose Malcolm.

"'M okay," Malcolm managed. He was in excruciating pain, but he wasn't about to die, and he couldn't let Gil think that was a possibility. "I'll be fine, just get here."

"I'm almost there," Gil repeated. Malcolm could hear his voice echoing in the tunnel. He wanted to call out for him, but he knew that would only cause him more pain. He kept the phone right up to his ear instead.

"Gil," he said into it, as loudly as he dared. It still hurt, but he could hear his own voice echo just a little bit. Hopefully, Gil had heard it too.

Footsteps were walking towards him. For a split second, Malcolm panicked, thinking that somehow Lazar had come back. But, as usual, Gil's voice assuaged all his fear.

"Oh, Bright," Gil said, jogging the rest of the way as soon as he saw him. Malcolm let the phone fall out of his hand with a clatter.

"Gil," he groaned out again. Gil fell to his knees next to him, hands hovering over him as if he were scared that touching him would hurt.

"What the hell happened to you, kid?"

"Saw Lazar, followed him here. Turnstiles, Lazar trapped me, broke my ribs," Malcolm managed to say.

"You are getting one impressive scolding later," Gil muttered. "Are you sure you don't need a bus?"

"No bus," Malcolm said, shaking his head. Staying in exactly the same position, the pain had started to lessen just a little bit. Breathing and talking were both just a little bit easier. But he knew that he had to move, and then he would be in agony once again. It was going to hurt so much. Malcolm squeezed his eyes shut against both the pain and his tears. He was scared.

"I need to get you up," Gil said. Malcolm could tell that he knew just how much it was going to hurt too.

"I know," Malcolm replied, his voice small. He opened his eyes at a sudden light pressure on his shoulder. It was Gil's hand.

"It's gonna be okay," Gil told him. "I'm right here, it's just me. I'm gonna get you up and I'm gonna get you out of here, and it's going to hurt. If you need to scream or cry, that's okay. It's just me here." He waited a beat before continuing. "Are you ready? We're gonna start slow, just getting you sitting, then I'll get you up." After a moment, Malcolm nodded. It had to be done eventually. "Steady breaths, kid."

Gil quickly put his hands under Malcolm and lifted him up and to the side, getting him sitting just like he said he would. Malcolm cried out, then bit his lip so hard he was surprised he didn't break the skin. He was breathing heavily and trying to keep himself from falling apart. It hurt so bad.

After a minute, Malcolm opened his eyes, just realizing that he had shut them. Gil's hand was on his back, keeping him steady.

"I know it hurts, kid, I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm gonna call for an EMT to be ready and waiting at the precinct, alright?" Malcolm nodded, grateful for that extra minute it would give him to prepare for a second onslaught of pain. But the call was over and done with in less than a minute, and it was time. "You ready to stand?" Malcolm just nodded again. It was better to get it over with.

Gil maneuvered Malcolm's arms around him, and got a good grip on Malcolm himself in order to help him stand. After a brief moment of eye contact, Gil began to lift, and Malcolm did all he could to stand. He could hear himself letting out a low whine as he tried to keep himself from screaming. He hadn't felt a pain that intense in a long time. But finally, he was standing - only technically, since Gil was holding most of his weight.

"It's okay, kid, you're okay," Gil said, his voice a warm blanket of comfort. "I've got you. I'm gonna get you out of here. One step at a time, here we go."

They started slowly, picking up the pace a little bit once they fell into a nice rhythm. Malcolm had an arm wrapped around Gil's shoulders while Gil had an arm around Malcolm's back. Malcolm was leaning heavily onto Gil, letting the man do most of the work. He was more focused on breathing. Now that he was standing, and his ribs weren't being contorted in an odd position as they had been while he had been on the ground, breathing was a little bit easier. Not having the panic of not being able to breathe, Malcolm felt a little more clear headed.

"Thank you," he said. Gil deserved all the praise in the world for putting up with him and saving him.

"I'm just glad you're not dead," Gil said as they made their way out of the tunnel and into the light of the street. "The way you sounded on the phone... I was scared, kid."

"I'm sorry," Malcolm replied. "It just hurt so bad, I'm sorry."

"That is not what you need to be apologizing for. I know it hurts and I know you were scared too. You don't need to apologize for that."

In lieu of a response, Malcolm just clenched Gil's jacket a little tighter. He was so thankful to have him.

Malcolm did his best to ignore the strange looks he got as they walked into the precinct, which was simple enough when the moment someone looked at him wrong, Gil gave them a death glare. They were in Gil's office, in private, only a few minutes later. As promised, an EMT was ready and waiting.

"Kid's got some broken ribs," Gil said as he helped Malcolm to sit down. "Some psychopath snap-crackle-popped them." Malcolm almost laughed, but the pain wouldn't let him. "We're gonna have to take off your shirt," Gil finished. That was going to hurt too. Malcolm sighed and nodded.

"If something is broken, you really oughtta go to the hospital to get it x-rayed," the EMT said.

"I don't have time for that," Malcolm muttered as Gil undid his tie for him and set it on the desk.

"Okay, best I can do is gonna be to wrap them," the EMT continued, but that's all Malcolm was expecting. He would take something for the pain later, if someone had something around that wouldn't react badly with all his meds.

Malcolm bit his lip and began to attempt to shrug out of his jacket. He accidentally let out a whimper as he did so.

"Hey, hey, let me help you," Gil said, entirely playing the part of the concerned dad that Malcolm had always craved. Still, Malcolm held out his arm while Gil did the work of actually getting the jacket off, so Malcolm didn't have to move around to do it. They repeated the motion with his button down. Looking down at the redness, Malcolm could tell that it was going to be some truly impressive bruising.

"Can I feel around, see how bad it is?" the EMT asked. Malcolm nodded, and tried to focus on Gil as the EMT did his job. Every poke and prod was excruciating, but he managed to keep his cries to a minimum, although he did have to squeeze his eyes shut in order to stop any more tears from falling. It was okay if it was just Gil, but not with someone he didn't know, or anyone at the precinct. "I do agree you've probably got some fractures, but they don't seem bad, and you don't seem to be in any danger from them, other than the pain. I can wrap them, then I'll be on my way," the EMT said.

"Thank you," Malcolm replied with a nod.

"I still must recommend you go to the hospital," the man insisted.

"I don't have time to go, and there's not much that can be done for broken ribs, anyway," Malcolm pointed out. The EMT muttered something about stubborn kids, but dropped the subject.

As the EMT carefully wrapped his ribs, Malcolm could see Gil's expression slowly change from one of concern to one of exasperation. Gil didn't look annoyed with him, or angry, but he didn't exactly look as empathetic as he had earlier. Malcolm then remembered Gil saying something about a scolding he should be ready for, and figured that was what was about to happen.

As the EMT finished and began to gather his things up, Malcolm took his shirt in his hands. Despite his look of exasperation, Gil helped him to put it on, his expression softening while he did so.

"You are in so much trouble, young man," Gil scolded, smiling for a moment before his expression grew serious once more. "Call. For. Backup," he emphasized.

Despite the pain, and the circumstances, Malcolm almost smiled. There was no other dad he would rather be scolded by.


End file.
